


Scratch

by havisham



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Hate Sex, M/M, Porn Battle Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Mercutio springs a trap for his own amusement.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle Amnesty for the prompts: Mercutio/Tybalt, teeth, fight, scratch, blood, unrequited, distrust, anger.

A man like Tybalt was a weapon -- as senseless, as brutal, as _dull_ \-- when not in use. Mercutio dropped the hand of one of the beauties he had been charming all evening to watch him, that lumbering ox, who snorted and stared at the Montagues came into the hall. 

It was Prince Escalus’s will that tonight’s feast would be peaceful one -- all were obliged to leave their weapons at home, or have it confiscated at the door. 

But Tybalt still had his fists to pound against his chest, after all. 

Mercutio saw the scene unfold in his mind -- Romeo or Benvolio -- either drunkenly or foolishly, would take offense at Tybalt’s discourtesy and then! Ai, then his kinsman’s peace would be broken indeed. 

It fell on him, then, to prevent such a calamity. So, he set about it -- a few coins slipped into a page’s hand and suddenly Tybalt was called away from Lord Capulet’s side. He followed guileless enough, deep into the halls of the Prince’s palace, far from the noise of the feast. He believed that his blood would protect him, a foolish supposition. 

Mercutio followed behind, taking his time. The page passed him by and he gave a wave and went to see where Tybalt was, hopelessly lost. It would be easy enough to emerge from the gloom with a slim, sharp knife, and stick it into Tybalt’s ribs. It would be easy enough to disappear until the furor died down. But such underhanded skulduggery was not his way -- Mercutio would meet his enemies head on or not at all.

“Hail, Tybalt, Prince of Cats! Why such a face?” Mercutio spang upon him with a laugh, barely concealed. 

Tybalt reached for his sword and found nothing in his scabbard, He clenched his fist instead. Mercutio caught the blow before it could fall and pushed him against the wall. 

“You would break my cousin’s peace for a little teasing? For shame, Capulet.” 

“I do not care for your vicious tongue,” Tybalt hissed at him through clenched teeth. 

“My tongue once gave you satisfaction, once,” Mercutio said with a sigh, as he pressed closer to Tybalt, who was tense and watchful against him, but did not push him away. 

“But now your tongue ends at young Montague’s back, it has neglected me too long,” Tybalt said at last, his eyes cast down, his color rising. 

Despite himself, despite the danger, Mercutio laughed and pulled Tybalt into a crushing embrace and kiss that ended with a bite. He wanted to hurt him as much as to touch him, and this Tybalt knew. 

He pushed Mercutio to his knees, roughly, and Mercutio went down without a protest. His mouth was open and tilted up, a crude invitation, but one that his lover was eager to accept. 

Romeo’s cock was nothing like this -- oh, it was enough for the sighing maids that Romeo loved to love, but terms of size and girth, and only that, Capulet trumped Montague. Mercutio thought he loved the cock much more than than the man, if he could have one without the other, he would take it. 

But still, Mercutio had sucked enough cocks to do it well, and when he felt Tybalt’s finger scraping against his scalp, a fire lit in his belly, the feeling he had been waiting for the whole evening through. He was like a man possessed, then, stroking the length of Tybalt’s cock with his hands and teasing the end with his tongue. He watched avidly as Tybalt unwound before him, gasping for air, cursing softly at everything -- himself, Mercutio, and every hell-bound Montague in the city (which was all of them.) 

He came without warning. And though Mercutio tried to dodge it, come dotted the front of his doublet and went into his hair. Mercutio rose, a little unsteady, and grabbed Tybalt by the hair. Turnabout was fair play, after all. 

“Lick it clean,” he said, almost absently. “I will not greet my kinsmen in such disheveled manner.” 

The look Tybalt gave him was filled with loathing and something that perhaps was _not._

And he did what he was told, without even a murmur of protest.


End file.
